


You Don't Know How Lucky You Are

by Temptingareadaholic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, Kinda, M/M, Marco was with someone else too, Minor Levi/Eren Yeager, Past Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager, Rating might go up, but like it's not focuses on really, chapters will get longer, might be some springles, other characters will probably make it in as well, there's a kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temptingareadaholic/pseuds/Temptingareadaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's life has had its ups and downs like any other person, but there has always been that one consistent shining light for him until that light leaves. His life left in shambles with a shattered heart, he'll have to try and put it back together with the help of a freckled and even more troubled Marco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first Jeanmarco fic, which I've been trying to figure out and write for a while, but it isn't my first fic (not at all). So, there isn't much to tell you right now, but I hope you like it! Also this is the prologue, the other chapters should be much longer!  
> ALSO! The title is inspired by a song by Keaton Henson!

           

            It's cold and rainy and I'm fucking done. On the night...or I guess morning after, of what was supposed to be either the best day of my life or the day it's supposedly over completely, (I was hoping for the best) I'm sitting at a bus stop waiting for a bus that won't ever fucking come and my tears just won't stop. The tuxedo I'm wearing is soaked; the water from my previous walk in the rain has slowly crept through every inch of it, soaking it black like the sky turning from day to night.

            I can't even feel the cold anymore. It's all too clumped together really. I can't tell the difference from the wind biting at my skin and the pain biting at my heart; it's all the same to me. Rain keeps pelting against the metal frame of the bus stop, sliding along the top in tiny rivers and then dropping down onto me like a fucking waterfall. It all just fucking sucks.

            His face won't leave my mind. Eyes like a fucking ocean that lit up like a damn spot light was on them all the time–and to me he was always in that stupid spotlight–bore holes into me. His goddamn smile shone like no other, his fingers would wipe tears from my face, but they weren't wiping them now and he wasn't smiling before. All that stupid bastard did was stare at the goddamn carpet, clenching and unclenching his hand as if he was the one who should be in so much pain, as if it was his fucking heart that was being shattered. Damn him, that stupid motherfucking son of bitch.

            "I'm sorry, Jean," Eren had said, "I can't. I know this is really shitty of me and I know I chose the worst time to do this. I keep telling myself that at least I didn't wait to tell you after we were married, hoping that makes this any better, but it doesn't. Jean, I'm really sorry." He had fucking cried; he stood there in front of me with tears in those beautiful fucking teal eyes and told me he was leaving me for Levi. Levi, his short-ass boss had somehow stolen the love of my life. I don't even want to know how much their relationship had progressed while we together and he didn't tell me. Still, I couldn't keep the questions from plaguing  me. Did they kiss? The must have. Did they say "I love you"? I thought it was only me he said that to. Did they sleep together? I might not have even been his first like he said, but ,still he was mine.

            Damn him! I can't cry anymore, I have to stop. No longer will I let myself just sit here and sob like the fucking mess I am. God, if he saw me right now I don't think I could live with myself. Just the thought of him knowing what he had done to me, how much power he had over me sends sharp ripples of electricity down my back and a growl leaves my lips. Damn that stupid fucking son of a bitch.

            It was then that a car pulls up next to me. Squeaking as it rolls down, the window of the beat-up old station wagon reveals a familiar face behind it. Tan and freckled per fucking always, Ymir looks at me without her usual smirk that looks as if she was planning something malicious (she normally was). Now her face is dead, just black and staring at me. For Ymir, it was the equivalent of sobbing tears of pity. I don't really want her pity, but I jump into her car before the words ever left her mouth. I need her right now.

 

* * *

 

            I planned to spread myself across the back seat of her car the entire ride to wherever the fuck she was taking me. Below me, I could hear the quite thrum of the tires against the road, the occasional bump shaking my head back and forth. I had stopped crying by now, calmed slightly by the constant hum of the car and just endlessly staring at the grey ceiling above me. I had run out of tears for now, but I knew that they would come later. This time though, I wouldn't be alone. Who would have ever thought that Ymir would come to me as a goddamn blessing?

            The car slows to a stop, only this time it isn't because of yet another red light. Above me I can make out the brown stone apartment building Ymir lived in with her wife, Historia. It was suppose to be my refuge for now, this building, but as soon as I saw it all I can think of is _him_. Eren. How many parties had Ymir thrown in this building? How many times had we gone together, hands clasped as we knocked on the door together? How many sweet simple kisses did I give him here when all I really did was want to shove my tongue down his throat? How many times did I actually shove my tongue down his throat here? A lot, I'll say that.

            He is everywhere and there is no way I can escape him. I can run, but to where? For how long? How long can I run from him and those stupid memories? Ymir would catch me before I could even lift my foot and bolt. I haven't even moved from my spot in the car anyways. Before I know it, the car door next to my head opens and an arm wraps around my torso, violently yanking me out of the car.

            "Ymir!" came the slight bell that was Historia's voice, "you'll hurt him!" It's alright Historia, I thought, I 'm already hurt. What will a little more pain do? Now I am standing on my own two feet, Ymir just an arm's distance away reading to catch me should I just decide that hey maybe I don't want to stand and that large chunk of concrete looks pretty good right now.

            I don't fall though. I follow her into the building with Historia next to me, her small hand on the small of my back pushing me forward. I hate to say it, except not really, but if it wasn't for the small and very pregnant blonde behind me, I don't think I would have made it to the elevator and then the apartment. The distance just seems too far for me to make it on my own and just her presence is enough to calm and comfort me.

            From the car to the door to the elevator to the room, not one tear fell, but when the door shuts behind us with a definite click, I lose any semblance of control. Two pairs of arms smothered me in an instant and oh my god, Ymir was not the type to hug. Normally, it was a punch in arm or she would ruffle, and therefore fuck up, my hair. The fact that her arms are around me and squeezing tight just shows how low I had found myself in that moment. A few days ago I was both nervous and head over heels in love as I prepared for my wedding. Now, I'm standing in their apartment. Just a huge fucking mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I do hope you continue, I should be updating every Sunday (we'll see if I can actually keep that promise). At times when I don't feel free to yell at me on Tumblr (or here too I guess). My URL is fortheharurin. Also, like please don't think Eren's a bad guy in this fic! I won't paint him as that, he actually has his own history with Levi mapped out, but I haven't really thought of a way to put it in. Maybe I'll write a side fic for them... anyway yeah, I shipped Jeaneren for like a day after that last OVA, so that's kinda why I put them together.......I hope you come back!  
> OH! If you see any errors, let me know!


	2. In the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's morning is shit as he thinks about the honeymoon that is never going to happen when a wild freckles appears. Yeah, don't expect good summaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading this far. I know that last chapter was really short, but that was because it was the prologue and I wanted that to be short (that's such bullshit, I got lazy). As you can see, this chapter is much longer and the others should be this length if not longer. I kept my promise and updated Sunday (it's still Sunday here). I don't know how long I can keep that promise. Feel free to yell at me on my tumblr, fortheharurin. Thank you so much for reading!

           

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day...I mean, it doesn't even feel real. I've been with him for eight of my twenty three years and every day I was with him, I knew I could lose him in a second. I knew that it was very possible we probably wouldn't last forever, but here we are, about to start forever.

            Shit. It's been such a long time and tomorrow is the day we fucking get _married_. Planning it was a bitch, I'll admit that. We argued over so much, but hey, that's what we do. We fight. We get mad. But, in the end, we realize it's stupid. Our fights are always over something trivial. Guys as stubborn as we are couldn't possibly make it through without a fight here and there, but there was always an end to our fight. There was always forgiveness and always an "I love you". Planning for our wedding really wasn't anything different. Who was walking down the aisle? Who was wearing white? Hell, did either of us have to wear white? It's not like it was a traditional wedding to begin with. In the end we both agreed to wear black,  but trust me, that was not the end of our arguments. Green or blue? Inside or outside? Steak or fish? Fiji or Hawaii? Damn it, I didn't even really care that much about the stupid honeymoon, as long as he was there with me.

            Mikasa stepped in at the end and set us both straight. At that point Eren and I finally agreed to something: let her choose. It was probably our best decision seeing as how we were getting fucking nowhere. With that raven-haired mastermind in charge, shit got done. Now tonight is the last time I'll see him before I walk up that aisle. I can already picture his eyes staring at me, blue and green mixed together as tears glisten over that stupid loving stare. I see it so often, but every time I do my heart melts and it feels like the first time all over again. God, how I love him.

            I'm sitting in a restaurant waiting for him. We agreed that we'd sleep separately tonight (more like Mikasa forced us to but whatever) and so a late dinner was planned. Eren is running late, but I know he will be here. It's been eight fucking years. He was always there. Ten minutes later and a huffing and somewhat red Eren is pushing himself through the door. He looks around a bit, his head swiveling around quickly. Eventually he spotted me and made his way over to our table.

            "I'm so sorry," he gasps, "I got held up by traffic." Which was odd, I thought, because I had been fine on my way over, but I probably just got lucky. The roads in Trost are unpredictable as fuck. Leave one second and you're on empty roads all the way, but leave the next and you're screwed. Still, Eren seems really flustered right now, his hands fidgety and clumsy as he tries to sit himself in the chair. Eren's not one to really like being late; I hope he didn't get worked up about it. It's only been ten minutes.

            "So how was your last day at work?" I ask. With our honeymoon lasting as long as we planned, we won't be at work for a good amount of time. As much as I would love to say that stepping out of those doors today was like a breath of fresh air, I know I'll actually start to miss my job. I work at an art museum, which is pretty fucking cool place to work.  It's all contemporary art (I've even had some of my stuff on the walls every now and then) and it's the best place on earth.

            When Eren answers me, he's dazed and it isn't really an answer,  more of a confused "huh?". He seems pretty out of it. Next to my foot, I can feel his foot bouncing up and down as the heal silently smacks against the ground, as if he's ready to bolt.

            "Work, Eren," I repeat, "I know Levi wasn't too happy about you taking too much time off. I don't really get why he has such a huge stick up his ass over just one paralegal. One who's getting married tomorrow too." I couldn't help myself. I am so goddamn nervous, but not as nervous as I am happy. I even slip a smile as I say it. Tomorrow. Married. Damn.

            He doesn't smile though, he just starts blabbing. His words falls out of his mouth, almost like he lost the ability to talk. Laughter bubbles in my chest, but I keep it in. Never had I seen him like this; never had I see him brimming with nerves. I'll admit, it's almost endearing and I'm enjoying it.

            Reaching out, I grab his hand, reassuring him that there is nothing to be scared of. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be perfect and as my thumb slowly strokes the top of his hand, his skin smooth under mine, I can feel his pulse slow and he relaxes before me. Nothing had changed and nothing will. All we're doing is changing the title from fiancé to husband (and some legal shit but that's not really important right now)

            From there, dinner proceeds as it normally would have. Conversation is light and fun. Our nerves about tomorrow are neatly bundled away and we are the same couple we have always been for the last eight year, ever since that day. He stares at me with the same loving eyes he had always stared at me with and everything feels right.

            When dinner was over and we had paid the check, I clasp his hand with mine and lead him to the door. Now outside with the cool night air sweeping through our hair, I turn to him. Our last seconds before marriage, I almost don't want it to end, but I can't wait to begin. Leaning down I gently press my lips against his, his mouth warm and soft against mine. It's short and sweet, holding a promise between us that there will definitely be more to come.

            I didn't know

* * *

 

            I wake up slowly this morning, not entirely sure where exactly I am. The bed I was sleeping in is certainly not my own, but not wholly unfamiliar either. Looking around, I can see that the room is a weird mix of personalities. The sheets are black and there is weird as fuck art hanging on the wall, but on either side of the bed sits three yellow daisies, almost perfectly arranged.  Kinda like Ymir and Historia...

            Fuck...it all hits me like a huge wave. My lungs can't take air in anymore and it feels like I am drowning, ice water pouring into my lungs at every second as my body becomes numb from the cold. It fills me. I know where I am now, Ymir had taken my home last night after _he_ left. Eren left. He fucking left. Oh God.

            I dive into the covers, my head now smothered in black and my hands grasp the sheets tightly, just willing them to bury me forever. My shoulders shake violently and my entire body vibrates from the pain that courses through me as I just can't deal with this. Just fuck my life. Here I am, barely able to keep myself from sobbing completely while my fiancé, my lover, my best friend had decided he didn't exactly want to be that anymore. He is off with some other guy right now, _Levi_ , and I bet he can't be happier. He's probably looking at that short ball of anger right not, staring at him with those same eyes he should be staring at me with right now. We should be lying next to each other after lazy morning sex ready to start the first day of our honeymoon, a honeymoon that's never gonna happen. Fuck him, at least he was the one who paid. 

            By the time I finally dig myself out of the covers, twenty minutes have gone by since the time I woke up. Great, another twenty minutes of my life have been wasted on that asshole. Now that I'm not busy wallowing in  pathetic self-pity, I realize that I was still in the tuxedo I was wearing yesterday and it only takes me all of two seconds to tear it all off. I stand there for a while, just looking at what was now a pile of black, but yesterday...yesterday it was something else. Before I can even begin to blink back those fucking tears again the door slams open behind me.

            "Ymir," calls the guy who had just made the big mistake of deciding to barge into my pity room, "where are you? I need to...." He stops as soon as he sees me. Stop isn't even a really good word to describe what this guy does. No, he fucking freezes. His eyes widen and it doesn't take long for him to almost stop breathing. Although, I can't say I completely blame him. He did just walk in on me pretty much naked except for a skimpy piece of fabric posing as underwear (it was Eren's idea). I don't really know what to do at this point, so I just stare back. The guy is pretty tall, maybe an inch taller than me. Well built too, I can see well-defined muscles peaking out underneath the red sweater he's wearing. His face, underneath the spreading red blush (man did this guy turn red) is tan and splattered with freckles. There seems to be a huge clusterfuck around his button-nose and they just spread out from there. His hair is styled in a slight undercut, definitely not as dramatic as mine and it's only one color. When he finally gets over himself he starts blabbing like an idiot, a cute idiot, but an idiot all the same.

            "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" he screeches, "I was looking... and I didn't know...Ymir never....I can't even find....who are you?" _Who am I?_ Who the fuck are you? I wish I can pretend that I'm all cool and smooth about the whole thing, but the guy just caught me in the smallest (and probably sexiest) pair of underwear I had ever tried on and it isn't even that long ago when I had almost lost the fight to keep my tears from spilling. At this point, I'm not in any condition to give him an answer.

            "I...I...uh...I'm...I don't know," I garble. _I don't know?_ What kind of fucking response is that? How did it take me five seconds to forget the poor existence I had landed myself in.

            "Are you lost or something...." he sounds really fucking confused right now. So am I buddy, so am I. "How did you even get in here? And what exactly are you wearing?" He is starting to back away from me now and if I wasn't so stunned and confused I would have started laughing, but instead I thought it would be a smart decision to lunge my almost naked ass forward and try to stop him from running and screaming about some crazy dude in Ymir's guest room. Wait...

            "How the hell do _you_ even know Ymir," I blurt. I'm thinking a little more clearly by now, but that doesn't mean I am any less confused. In fact, now I'm even more confused. I have known Ymir almost all my life and I have no clue who this guy is or why he seems to be so familiar with my friend that he's completely comfortable just barging into whatever room he pleases. Well that should change after today

            "How do _I_ know Ymir?" he asks, "I've known her a lot longer than you, I can assure you that. And you still haven't even answered my question. Why are you dressed like a stripper? Are you a....holy shit, Ymir, is this some sort of joke!" He isn't even paying attention to me anymore. He turns sharply and sets off to probably go look for Ymir. I run after him without even thinking, still dressed in the same sexy underwear I was dressed in last night. Obviously not my best choice, but hey, I've made shittier choices in my life.

            Following right after him into what Historia called the living room (barely), I smack right into him when he stops abruptly. Having an almost naked stranger run into him like that probably isn't the description of this guy's ideal day, but he is the one who stopped all of a sudden. Rubbing my now hurting nose (his back muscles could probably kill a guy), I hear a loud shrieking laughter from behind him. There is only one possible person it could have come from and as I look around this guy's shoulder my thoughts are confirmed. Ymir can barely keep herself standing as her arms clutch her stomach, laughter vibrating throughout her entire body. Her face turning red from the loss of air, she has trouble gaining her breathe back.

            "Morning, Jeanbo! Hahaha!" she cackles and wheezes, "You certainly go all out. I can't even begin to think where you got a pair of those, mind giving me some tips? I know Historia would just loooove that!" Oh God, please just kill me right now. The freckled man in front of me  turns even redder, his head bent done in pure embarrassment. Trust me, buddy, I think I have it just a little bit worse right now. I mean, here I am standing in front of some stranger and _Ymir_ with literally the skimpiest shit possible imagined picked out by my one and only  ex-fiancé. Fuck you, Eren. Look at what you do to me.

            When it seems like she won't be calming down anytime soon, Freckles finally speaks up, "Ymir, could you please explain what's going on. I'm pretty confused right now and..." he's interrupted by her deafening shrieks, "Ymir! Are you even listening to me? Where's Historia anyways?" Smart thinking, Freckles. If there is anyone to get her attention, it was Historia. And sure enough, just the name has managed to calm Ymir down already.

            "She went out this morning to go have coffee with Sasha and then she was going to head into work," she says, looking slightly saddened at the thought of not seeing her wife for so long. "I guess I should make some introductions here, although...from the looks of it, you two already know each other very well." She laughs to herself, but calms herself down quickly this time.

            "Ymir," the guy says sternly. It is as if he's scolding her and that in itself is very weird because no one scolds Ymir unless their name is Historia. Of course we all groan her name every time she goes a tad too far, but no one has the balls to outright scold her. Either this guy doesn't know her at all and is about to get a big wakeup call or he knows her beyond any way comprehensible. It's hard to think of anyway someone could get on a level similar to Historia's.

            "Okay okay, geez, Marco," she giggles. Yeah that's right, she fucking giggled. Slinging her arm around freckles she goes on, "Jean, this is my big bro, Marco. Marco, this is a really good friend of mine, Jean." The guy doesn't look any more relieved by my near naked presence and holy shit, Ymir has a brother?

            "B-brother?" I stumble over  the word, it's my first time talking in a while and I'm just completely floored by the idea of fucking Ymir having a brother. Still, when I look at them more closely I can see the same pattern of freckles and the same tan skin. Their noses are slightly different, his being more round and button-like and hers more sharp. Their mouths though, they're almost the exact same and holy shit, Ymir has a brother.

            "Yep!" her lips make a popping noise at the _P_ , "He's twenty five, so two years older than us and he went to boarding school, so you never would have seen him in high school with us." She says this as if it's really no big deal. I've known this girl since freshman year of high school and never did I know that she has an older brother.

            "And you've neglected to tell me or anyone else this for the last nine years because...?" I ask not really pissed at her, but just confused as fuck. You think you know a good amount about a person, but then they go and just pull out a brother.

            "Historia knew, and you never asked. He wasn't at the wedding either..." she trails off and gives him a fake glare. "Something came up. I guess I just really never thought about telling you guys." I hear a small, sarcastic _thanks Ymir_ in front of me, barely a whisper, and I have to stop myself from chuckling.

            "I still don't get exactly why he was in the guest bedroom dressed like..." he stops, not really knowing how exactly to describe my appearance anymore.  Can't say I blame the guy, I don't even really know if I can explain myself right now.

            "Oh," she says, like it is the most fucking obvious thing ever, "that's because he..." and then she stops because she remembers exactly why I am there. So do I. Now that everything has calmed down so suddenly, I remember. I remember the way Historia guided me into their apartment last night. I remember the way I started crying immediately and the way they both held me up. I remember eventually running out of tears as my body shuddered. I remember them guiding my to the bed eventually and tucking me beneath the covers with my clothes still on. I remember falling asleep with his name on my tongue. Eren.

            We both stand there, remembering, until Marco speaks up, "He what?" I don't really know how to answer that nor do I really think I want it to be answered. How do you explain to a stranger that yesterday you were supposed to get married? How do you word the ways in which your fiancé and boyfriend of eight years just upped and left right at the altar? How can I convey the anger and sadness that has been ripping me apart ever since he left? How the fuck do I tell him that the reason I'm standing there right now in this stupid underwear is because I was planning for an amazing first night of marriage that is now never going to be possible? I can't. I can't explain that to some guy I just met, even if he is Ymir's brother.

            Luckily, Ymir gets that too and tells him, "It's a story for another time, Big Bro. I doesn't matter right now." I hope she can see how thankful I am through my eyes. I glance over at Marco and see something flash in his eyes. Understanding, I think for a second, but no, it can't possibly be that. How can this stranger possible understand what Eren did to me? How can anyone really?

            The three of us stand there in silence, not really knowing where to move from there. Ymir had dismissed everything, but the air is still thick and I can feel how wrong everything is now. It's uncomfortable and I can feel the pressure squeezing the air out of my lungs again, suffocating. I don't have the voice to break the silence, to cut through the tension. The only way for me to breathe again is to run, to escape to solitude and break, but before I can do so, Ymir's loud voice breaks it for me.

            "You know what," she begins, "since I'm Historia-less and you two look like shit, I'm gonna take you guys out to lunch." The idea can't really seem any less appealing. I am in no mood to make small talk with freckles here and in no mood to pretend that everything was just fine, because right now everything is still pretty much shit. But, it's Ymir and she's offering free food, which is something extraordinarily rare when it comes to this woman. I agree and move to go make myself look somewhat decent when Ymir calls after me, "Jeanbo, no! Marco and I like you just the way you are!" She cackles as Marco and I both turn obscenely red.

            I slam the door in response, only then realizing that the only clothing I have is the wrinkled tuxedo lying on the floor. Grudgingly I open the door and peak my head out, "Ymir," I grumble, "I don't have any other clothes. Just the..." Freckles is blushing beside her while she looks torn between laughter and pity. The situation itself is pretty messed up and at any other time I would say hilarious, but yesterday still burns clearly in mind. I never planned on being here today.

            "Marco has a spare set here," she says, "I don't think he'll mind much if you borrow them, will ya Big Bro?" He smiles politely at me and tells me they're in the dresser, but I can still feel a little awkwardness between us. Can't say I blame the guy.

            In the dresser I find a pair of normal blue jeans that are a little big, but a belt will hold them up no problem. The sweater I find though (guess the guy likes sweaters) is bigger than I can pull off. It hangs off of me. Now, I'm not a small guy; I even like to think of myself as pretty fit and all. But right now, I am feeling pretty fucking skinny. I wouldn't say Marco was bursting out of his sweater earlier, muscles everywhere, but he was big and defined enough where you could see small traces of it through the fabric. I am nothing compared to him.

            When I leave the room this time, Ymir bursts out laughing as I stand there drowning in Marco's sweater. I'm pretty sure I even hear a small chuckle coming from him too. Well fuck you, freckles. I mumble a "let's go" as I move to the door, quiet snickers following me.

* * *

 

            Ymir takes us to a small, local diner that I'm pretty sure both of us have been to a million times. It has the old classic diner feel with shiny silver stuff everywhere and red upholstery seats without being one of those old decaying diners. I've been here so much it almost feels like home, maybe a bit too much like home. Still, the food here is excellent and I'm paying. I step inside after only a millisecond of hesitation.

            We sit down by the window, where the sun hits us but doesn't blind us and where we can see car after car whiz by. I almost feel relaxed again. It's like yesterday is erased and it's like any old morning. Eren and I've gone to eat before separating and going to work. He'll order the same triple-stack buttermilk pancakes and I, the three-egg omelet with a layer of melted cheese on top. The waitress comes by and before I open my eyes and confirmed the usual, I stop. It's not Eren sitting in front of me, staring at me with those teal eyes as I order the same thing I order every day, but a freckled stranger with deep brown eyes who I have only met this morning. I ask for waffles with bacon on the side. She smiles at me and leaves, taking my order with her.

            No one seems to be set on small talk right now, for which I'm really grateful. Marco stares out the window and watches the cars go by, his mind probably somewhere else, and Ymir fidgets next to him. For once, it seems like she isn't entirely sure what to do with the silence. Leave it, I think, we don't need to fill the silence now. Marco and I sure seem content with it.  I don't know where he is or what he's thinking about, but when it's silent, I can close my eyes. I can go back to a time when I'm happy and in love. I can go back to a few days ago when nothing was wrong. The sun on my face, the cars rushing by, the white noise in the background, it's all the same. I can go back.

            I can't go back. If I'm lucky, I'll never see the bastard again, but I'm usually not lucky. I'm stuck now, sitting across from two Bodt's as Ymir is actually trying to cheer me up. The only good thing I have going for me right now is I'm about to get free food and even that will end soon. I can't go back, but God damn it do I want to.

            At some point, Ymir finally becomes too uncomfortable with the silence and speaks up, "So Marco, how's Med school going for ya?" He almost jumps at this, his eye lighting up and small smile graces his face. He rambles on and on and I can barely follow just what he's saying, but the way he says it makes me want to pay attention. I'm so enraptured by the flip in his mood and personality that I barely even notice when he asks me a question.

            "What do you do Jean?" he asks, "Are you still in school?" School normally isn't a subject I like to talk about. I'm 23 and graduated not that long ago, but declaring my major in sophomore year was a nightmare. My mom wasn't completely fond of the idea of me wanting to be an artist. She didn't think I could make a good living off of it. In the end, she relented and told me to do what made me happy. So I did.

            "I was an art major," I tell him, "I graduated about a year ago and I work at this contemporary art museum. I've even had some work hung up there." I feel like bragging right now. Seeing the surprise on people's faces is a great feeling. Normally, when I tell people I that was an art major they wonder what McDonald's I'm working at, but no, I was successful. So I wait there, just looking to see that surprise. Give me a laugh, Freckles, I need one.

            I never get it. He just stares at me, looking super interested as if he's just begging me to go on. I don't get my laugh, but this feels a hundred times better. It's like he knew this whole time that I would succeed. People doubted me, always they doubted me, but he didn't (neither did Eren). I open my mouth, hesitated, and began talking.

            I told him how I first got the job. Eren was with me at the time, but I think the story is best told without him. I had walked in there one day, not long after graduation. It was sort of a treat for me. Like, hey you made it through college, go enjoy yourself. The art there was amazing, just absolutely breathtaking. I had stared at each piece for ages just taking in every detail, digesting the entire thing (Eren would have to pull me away eventually).

            There was this one painting there that I just couldn't leave. The middle was like a fireball of oranges and red, the center a bright light shining out of the painting. Behind that was a mix of purples and thick blue brush strokes down the side, as if it was a city at night. All the lights completely off, lit only by the raging blaze. Splotchy streaks of bold red, yellow, and back dripped down the bottom of the painting. The entirety of it all lit another fire within me as I stared at it with amazement.

             Who knows how long I stood there (I could loosely feel Eren tug on my arm for almost all of it). At some point a very tall man walked up to me. He seemed to be pretty flustered and was even sweating a bit. He was formally dressed and obviously in uniform so I could tell he worked there. After a bit, he muttered that it was his favorite painting in the entire museum and just that single sentence had sparked one of the best conversations I have ever had. We must have talked for an hour (Eren got fed up at one point and left to go get coffee). That conversation ended in the guy, Bertholdt, telling me that  they were pretty short staffed and could use another person. I didn't even hesitate. It's been a decision I have never regretted.

            The entire time, Marco never looked away from me at once. I had no doubts that he caught every word of my story. I wanted to tell him more. I wanted to tell the story of how I met Reiner, another employee there, and the story of how one day I walked in on a sight I will probably never unsee and blackmail I never wanted. I want to tell him about the time Connie and Sasha ambushed me at work. That had been a crazy day to begin with, but add those two into the mix and I could barely handle it.

            I normally don't want to talk that much. I don't give too much away unless I know the person really well, and there are very few of those. I can never really let too much of myself go, but right now I find myself wanting to tell him every little detail. I want to tell him because I know he'll listen. And, for some reason, I know he'll actually care. It's a weird feeling to have, but a really good one. Most people will listen somewhat, giving you small nods and "mmhmm"s and that's okay, but I can tell this guy really listens. He listens and nods and asks questions and wants to know more and he just makes you want to talk. I don't want to lie and I don't want to skip out on any details. It's Marco, I barely know him and yet I feel like I just need to tell him everything. I feel bad for leaving Eren out of everything, leaving out such a large detail that changes so much of the story.

            It sucks, not being able to tell Marco, but I _have_ just me the guy. I can't just drop such huge baggage on him. Ymir took me here to get away from Eren and the memories. Eren isn't supposed to be involved in today. He's everywhere though and I fucking hate it. You know what sucks even more? I miss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminding you, Eren is not a bad guy in this fic. Jean only treats him as such because hey he got left at the altar, he gets to do that. I can't wait to explore Eren more and I love the past and story that I've written out for him, I just haven't though of a way to incorporate it into the story (possibly another fic will have to do). Just don't hate him. I would like to thank all those who left a comment or a kudo, it was very much appreciated. I hope you like what you read and keep on reading. I'll see you next Sunday! Hopefully!


	3. Sweetheart, What Have You Done Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so remember when I said I would try to update every Sunday? Yeah, keyword there is tried. I can be very bad at updating, like I'm seriously shit at it. I might get a good streak where I actually update within a week or two for like maybe two chapter....yeah. I'll really try not put too much time in between, but school and work take up a good portion of my time. This chapter is shorter than I intended, but I wanted to actually updated, so what wasn't here will just be in the next chapter. Also (I had forgotten), the reason I had so much trouble updating is TENSE. I realized I fucked it up big time and I had to go through everything to fix it. So yeah, there is also that. Thank you for waiting and thanks for reading!

Lunch sort of continues in a haze, I guess. Talking to Ymir and Marco, I try to forget about Eren and to lose myself in conversation with the two. It's impossible, he's everywhere and I can't escape him. How can I? He's been involved in almost every aspect of my life for the last eight years. Everything reminds me of him. Ymir tries, but she certainly doesn't help much. It's not even her fault, just her presence serves as a reminder of him. After all, Ymir was the one who worked so hard to get us together. I don't blame her, of course I wouldn't. Eren gave me some of the best years of my life; I won't deny that, but right now seems to just trump all of that. Ymir is too tied up with my past with him.

            Marco, though, Marco is like a breath of fresh air. I look at Ymir and see Eren. I look at Marco and see Marco. He isn't associated with anything but himself. I can forget everything when I'm talking with him, as long as I'm not talking about myself. Which is kinda hard at first; he's curious as fuck and interested in everything. Questions  follow whenever I am done speaking and it's okay for a bit, but after a while he seems get that it's sorta uncomfortable for me. He  doesn't ask why, just turns the attention around to himself. Damn. This guy is some perceptive freckled Jesus.

            The awkwardness from this morning is completely gone. I doubt either of us really care to remember exactly how we met earlier and maybe sometime in the far future if we are still friends, it would be a story we will look back on and laugh at. Sounds so fucking cliché, but it sounds so much better than what I have right now.

            Right now, Marco is telling me the wonders of boarding school. He seems to be pretty much a saint, the only shit he ever got into was when Ymir was around. Can't say I am surprised.  It's hard to see him as the older sibling, it's only by two years too. Ymir just oozes life experience and her look says "I've seen shit". Still, I can just see it: the protective older brother. He'd do anything for her in a heartbeat.  I can't believe Ymir never told me he existed.

            The two have many stories together. Apparently whenever Ymir was gone for the weekend or left during breaks, she was seeing Marco. I guess none of us besides Historia questioned where she was going. I feel kinda bad about that, but it looks like each time had its own unbelievable experience. I'm even laughing as Marco tells me about the time Ymir had almost gotten him and two other friends expelled on a prank that has pretty much topped everything Ymir had us pull back in high school. Marco is wholly and wonderfully distracting.

            Soon we are switched and it's me asking questions. He seems to be okay with this, the same way I was at first. Answering each question thoroughly as if he's taking me with him on his adventures. He is so amazing to listen to. Just like before, when he was talking about med school, he is enthusiastic about everything as if it is killing him not being able to tell you quick enough. I love it.

            At one point I start asking him about college. Ymir and I had both gone to Trost University. If Marco had gone there I would have remembered. He tells me that after boarding school, he had gotten into Sina University, which, while Trost is still a pretty good school, is definitely a much better school than mine. Should have know really, this guy being so passionate about med school. After that though, he is lot quieter. That really bright light that just shone in every story he had told has gone out. I try to do exactly what he had done for me, I leave it alone. I try to change the topic really quickly, but Ymir beats me to it.

            "Historia!" she almost screams, reaching down to her back pocket to obviously bring out her phone. I have no idea how she could have possible known it was Historia before she even looked at the caller ID. Those two probably have some psychic connection. Knowing them, it wouldn't surprise me. She answers it right away. "Hi babe!" She gets so excited and happy when talking to Historia, it's almost endearing (except it's Ymir and endearing isn't a word that fits her). Marco, though,  gives her a look so fond that it could rival Historia. Damn. He probably is a really good older brother. God damn it Ymir, I still can't believe you never talked about him.

            She hangs up rather quickly for a Historia call and throws down two twenties onto the table. "That should cover everything," she says, "I got to go, Historia needs me. I trust that you two can get back just fine on your own." She is already wiggling out of the booth and starting to walk away when Marco grabs her arm, looking worried.

            "Is everything okay with Historia," he asks. I'm kinda worried too. As Historia-obsessed Ymir is, leaving this suddenly and this quickly is a little odd. She laughs and pats his hand. He lets go and she explains how Historia is just dying from cravings and needed her to go to the store. As she walks away, I hear her mutter something about pregnant women and chuckle. Geez Ymir, way to scare the shit out of both of us. I look at Marco, both of us pretty bewildered by now. After a long silent pause we both just burst out laughing. Clutching at the stitches in my side from laughing so much I almost forget about everything that happened yesterday and how broken I was this morning. Almost.

            When we finally settle down, Marco opens his mouth to speak, but the jingling of the door behind me and the approach of girl silences him. Black hair covers her face, her head tilts down. I would say she is one of the fittest girls I've ever seen, but I know a lot of fit girls and I know this one. I can't see her face, but I have known that hair since freshman year. With the same black silk that hasn't changed in years, Mikasa Ackerman stands before me. Eren's sister is standing at my table. It's like everything Marco has done to make me actually not feel like shit and forget what happened yesterday has disintegrated.

            "Jean," she whispers. I can tell she really does not want to be here, talking to the man whose heart her brother shattered. Who would, really? I actually can't come up with any good reason for why she's here, what she can possibly want to say to me. What can she say? Sorry my dick of a brother left? Sorry he threw away eight years and sorry he didn't even give it a second thought? Fuck him! I sit there silently begging her to just leave; I can't deal with this, not with Marco sitting across from me. I can't let him see me like this.

            She stands there for a bit, probably trapped by what to say. Like I said, there really isn't much she can say. The air in the room is tense and I can feel the awkwardness coming from Marco's end. He doesn't even have a clue about what's happening. Ymir didn't tell him anything and neither did I. Marco knows _something's_ up with me, he can feel it, but he's decent enough to not ask. I want to apologize to him right now, tell him I'm sorry for letting my shit get to him. He just met me. I can't though, just like Mikasa, I'm trapped by silence.

            I don't really know what to do. As much as I want to, I can't just leave. This is a problem I can't avoid. So, I sit there and brace myself. I can already feel the pain increase. I had thought earlier that Ymir was a huge reminder of Eren. Mikasa is on a level far beyond that. She has a relationship with him that I could never possibly understand. Hers was a presence that I had just accepted. After a year of tricking myself and pretending I had a crush on her, I gave up on her and began accepting myself for who I really was. Our friendship grew, but she and Eren were always regarded as one person along with Armin (who had probably known them in the womb). I never considered either of them singular from the other for years. It was always Mikasa and Eren and Armin. It felt like ages before I could make people associate Eren with me too. Jean and Eren. Now I just wish that would go the fuck away.

            The silence is almost unbearable and just before I'm about to break completely, she speaks. "I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't...I wish...I...I'm sorry." She stands there for a few more seconds, letting the silence swallow us and then walks away, just like that. She slides into a booth on the other side of the diner, probably meeting someone I could see, and that was that. With what seemed like ages of battling words and emotions and tension and just everything, Eren had dropped and left behind everything, all of it flew by in a few words. I don't know how, but it hasn't truly felt over until now. This isn't closure that I'm feeling right now, pretty fucking far from it to be honest. It just feels like the end, like any bit of hope that Eren would come back has been immediately destroyed beyond any fucking repair.

            Mikasa ended my entire life with Eren in an apology; he set that into motion when he left and she finished it. Now I _know_ he isn't coming back. Damn him. I don't think this can get any more painful, I didn't realize how much I had been hoping it was all just a fluke. I closed my eyes and got lost and I tried to make it not true. God fucking dammit, it is true and he is fucking gone and oh God I don't know what to do. I just sit there staring at the spot she disappeared from, not responding to anything around me. Holy shit, I can't deal with this right now. I can't feel anything. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything. I can't. I can't. I...I can't. I...I...I can't. I... fuck.

            I'm pretty sure Marco's calling my name by now. From what I've seen today, he probably kept silent for a bit guessing that I wouldn't want to talk about or tell him what just happened. I haven't said anything to him yet and he's probably worried. It's like there's a foggy tube around me. I'm pretty sure he's close to me now, trying to get my attention and trying to get me to snap out of it. I won't. I can't. I just keep staring forward at that spot. Gone. Gone. Gone. I'm just staring and I can't stop. I haven't said anything, I look normal probably. I'm not breathing weirdly and I'm not shaking. I'm not crying and I'm not sputtering words in some unintelligible nonsense. I'm not doing anything really. I'm just there. I'm not anything. I'm just there.

            Marco's shaking me right now. I can barely feel it. He's getting worried now, really worried. His voice is louder and I can...I can feel more. He's trying to break through that tube. He's trying to save me, but right now I don't know if I want to be saved. I much rather just sit here and stare. It's over, Marco. It's over and you can't save that. So please, stop trying to break the glass around me. It's protecting me and if you break it the shards will hurt both of us. Please, Marco, just go. I'm begging you. Please, just...oh God. I'm starting to lose. it. I can't breathe anymore and the spot I was staring at is starting to blur. I'm breaking now and Marco can't hear me.

            I stand up without warning, almost knocking him aside and remove his hand from my shoulder. Barely keeping my composure, I push out an "excuse me, bathroom" through my teeth and run for it. I pray that he doesn't follow and thank God it's answered because I don't think I can allow myself to break down in front of him. I'm already running to a public bathroom to go sob uncontrollably about my stupid bastard of an ex-fiancé (oh God that word), I don't need to do it front of some guy I have just met this morning.

            I make it to the bathroom in time, tears already beginning to stain my face. Quickly I lock the door behind me and let loose. I can't breathe it's like all my senses have come back at one and I can feel everything and everything feels really fucking painful.  Everything is breaking down and it hurts so much. The pain is just too much to bear and I sink to the floor. It's cold beneath my hands and I can feel it sapping every bit of warmth out through my fingertips. I don't even try to hold on. I let the cold envelope me. I let the pain come; I know it's inevitable and there really is not point in holding it off and longer. It will come and it will devour me eventually, so why not let it come now.

            I want to call out, I want to scream and let each and every wretched fucking sob loose. I want to bang at the floor and I want tear the walls and doors down. I want to escape this fucking box I locked myself in. I need to rip it all down and I need to break the glass, this tube around me that's blocking off the rest of the world. I need to get out. But, I can't do it like this. I can't let the world see me broken and in pieces. I lost Eren, but I need to seem strong at least. I can't let them see _me._ That me is weak. I am weak. Look at me. I can't even pick myself off this fucking floor. I push against the ground and end up nowhere. It's like I'm slowly withering away, so I give up trying. I just lie there. I can't breathe right and I can't feel anything but the cold beneath me. I'm shaking now. I'm so weak...I need someone to pick me up because there is no fucking way I can muster the strength to pick myself up.

            There's no one there. No one is going to come and break down the door that _I_ locked to save me. So I just lie there, waiting for nothing. I can't breathe and I can't feel. I can't do anything, so I don't even try. There's no point. There' s no fucking point. God dammit, fuck you, Eren. You left me with nothing.

* * *

 

            I don't know how long I was on the floor. No one has knocked on the door, so it can't have been that long, but who knows. It feels like my entire life had flown by. Marco must be gone by now. I left him sitting there alone this entire time and I doubt he had the patience to wait for me. I don't blame him. I wouldn't have waited for me either. Walking home alone might suck a bit with no one to distract me (Okay, let's be real here its gonna suck a lot), but I'll be fine. I don't need anyone anyways. I don't.

            I walk slowly back to my table, already getting my wallet out to pay the check. I'm barely halfway back to the booth when I realize I don't have a home return to. I can't go back to the apartment Eren and I shared, I just can't. That place holds too many memories. Some aren't the best, but most are happy. They're the memories I was supposed to look back on ten years into the future with him and laugh about. I'm supposed to sit there with him laughing about the time we both royally fucked up pasta (no I don't know how we fucked up pasta).  I can't laugh now; I can't look back and remember the good times. I'll never be able to do that. Eren took that away from me. All I can do is sit there and wish they come back or wish they never happen. Neither will come true. He's gone and I'm left stagnant.

            Home is gone. So where do I go from here? I could go back to Ymir's, but she never necessarily said that I could. I doubt she'd actually mind, but I also don't have a key. Knowing Ymir, she could be fussing over Historia for hours and I'm not really in the mood to stand outside a door waiting for her to come home. So that's out.

            Home is gone. I have nowhere to go. It's not like I have anywhere to be really. I could wander the streets, looking at shop after shop. These shops have been in my life ever since I moved here though. There were days when Eren and I were lucky enough to both have days off. We would go out window shopping. There are too many God damn memories about him. Fuck him.

            Home is gone. I get back to the table and Marco isn't.  He's still sitting there where I left him. He's looking down right now, keeping to himself. I stand there, not really knowing if I should go back. I almost decide against it, but at that moment he lifts his head an looks around. His eyes land on me and lock. We stay there, staring at each other and not really knowing where to go from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's that. Remember, Eren's not bad, he just did a sorta bad thing ( I guess it depends on how you interpret it). If you haven't noticed (which you probably haven't), all the titles are Keaton Henson song title and oh my gosh I don't know if I can keep that up. Any comments, questions, suggestion, anything, let me know! Comments, kudos, and the like are very much appreciated. Thanks!


End file.
